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She smiled at him encouragingly as she made her way across the Hall. He watched her hungrily, as he always did, and sighed heavily as she introduced herself with a smile--his smile. He'd loved that smile for Merlin knows how long, and it didn't seem fair. Why should their Common Room get to see her smile every day? He looked back at her as Potter made his way up to the stool, and she rolled her eyes amusedly, the universal signal for 'What a prat!' He grinned at her, and turned back to the front, not wanting to get into trouble after being in the school for five minutes. He could deal with Lily being in Gryffindor so long as--

"GRYFFINDOR"

Damn.

He cradled his head in his hands, watching Potter strut across the Hall from between his fingers. Potter mussed his hair as the Lions clapped politely, and high fived a long row of upper classmen before he reached an empty spot at the Gryffindor table...right next to Lily.

He gripped his wand tightly as he watched Potter lean towards her, saying something undoubtedly arrogant that Snape couldn't make out from his position across the room. He watched the Black boy grin from Lily's other side, elbowing her good naturedly, and he watched, in horror, as Lily cracked a polite smile. His smile. He stood on his tiptoes, trying to catch her eye, and nearly fell over when Potter put his hand on her shoulder to whisper something in her ear.

"Snape, Severus."

He stowed his wand away quickly, but hardly took his eyes off the Gryffindor table as he stumbled up to the stool. The hat landed on his head--this was a historical moment-- but that damned Potter was ruining it. "If only... if only..."

...

Nearly twenty years later, two young wizards hold their wands aloft above a spare bit of old parchment. "What're you all about then?" One of them asked the parchment, tapping it with his wand. "Oi Fred," the other spouted, putting his hand on the page, "I solemnly swear that I am up to no good!"

Instantly, scripted words appeared across the page, and the redheads nearly knocked themselves out trying to read it.

Sammy's Gryffed up entry.

He always liked watching the sorting ceremony and this year was no exception.The first years were all huddled together in a tight pack, drawing on their group members for the strength they will soon be needing to walk up to the stool.

He could remember his own sorting almost as if it were yesterday. How he had stood there, slightly nervous and a little haughtily, awaiting his turn.

Minerva McGonagall now came into view, carrying the patched and dirty hat and a long roll of parchment. The sorting began shortly.

Suddenly, without really knowing how, he was transported back to his own. He saw it vividly. There stood Professor Tofty, holding the parchment aloft and calling his name. There he was walking shakily up to the hat, all eyes on him. Now the hat had slipped over his eyes and was whispering in his ear.

With a jolt, he was flung back into the present only to notice that the ceremony was over. Professor Dumbledore now stood, addressing the students.

“…And once again I’d like to welcome you all to Hogwarts and remember, if you need anything feel free to approach me or your Head of House, whom I will introduce know. Hufflepuffs, please find Professor Sprout for all your needs. Slytherins, Professor Snape will be delighted to help you with anything. Ravenclaws, the long suffering Professor Flitwick will tend to all your needs. And lastly Gryffindors will find all the help they need in Professor Riddle.”

He sank onto the cool grass, Viola Porter’s shrieking laughter still ringing in his ears. It wasn’t his fault he’d never ridden a broomstick before, but it fault or no, the entire Slytherin House now saw him as the stupidest of any First Year to ever stumble the halls of Hogwarts.

There was a muffled noise. Severus leaped up and aimed his wand at whoever had disturbed him in his misery. To his surprise, he found another wand pointing directly at his own large nose. He’d lost one advantage, but he snarled with all the menace that he’d learned over eleven years of self-protection, “What are you doing?”

The Black boy, one of Severus’s roommates, lowered his wand, though he kept a tight grip on it. “Forgot my cloak.” He scooped up a finely cut garment, adding, “I’m supposed to be writing lines for ol’ I-Shampoo-My-Hair-Twice-a-Day Malfoy.”

Severus caught them both off guard by letting out a grunt of laughter. Sirius, never one to reject an audience, continued, “He’s so proud of his hair, he should be a girl. Always touching it up. Glances in every window just to check his hair. Won’t kiss any girl whose hair is prettier than his.”

“You’re making that up.”

The other boy grinned. “Maybe.”

They stood there for a few moments, then Sirius said tentatively, “Look…I could show you some flying tips.”

Severus stiffened, his mind already screaming, Don’t do it! He’ll just have a laugh on you later! He opened his mouth to say so, but found that, to his surprise, he was tired of hating everyone. Instead, he took a chance, nodded stiffly, and extended his hand. “Okay.”

Sirius shook his hand with all the pompous enthusiasm of an eleven-year-old who owns the world. “Great! Let’s start now.”

Severus had just succeeded in getting onto the broom (with a lot of “Not like that! Ease up. No wonder the other one threw you!”) when anther voice was heard.

“Sev, are you out here?” Severus promptly fell off the broom. Sirius swallowed a guffaw and began to cough as Lily Evans appeared around the corner.

Sirius’s eyes narrowed. “You were on the train!”

With beautiful eleven-year-old scorn, she ignored him completely, addressing her friend. “Don’t worry about Voila Porter anymore. She won’t be laughing at anything for a while.”

“What’d you do?” Sirius asked eagerly, forgetting his antagonism.

Lily smirked at him. “Sponge-Knees curse. It might take her a while to get to the Hospital Wing.”

Sirius looked at her with respect. “Bloody brilliant! I tried to Vanish her hair last year, but Mum got in the way.”

Lily snorted; Sirius shrugged. Severus looked from one to the other and said, “Lily, this is Sirius. He’s a Slytherin too. Sirius, this is my best friend Lily.”

“Nice to meet you,” said Sirius. “What’s the incantation for that Sponge-Knees Curse?”

As I stare at the winding tree, the splashed burn holes jump out at me. I rub my fingers around the singed edges of my favorite cousin's name and sigh, dropping my hand back to my side. She was brave and determined—she did what her heart desired. I, however, have followed in the steps of my family. Just as they had presumed, I became a Slytherin. I am the Black family heir, after all.

I hear a knock on the door to the grandiose drawing room and turn. My mother enters and gestures towards the wall, asking my opinion of the defamation the individual relatives have caused our noble house. I reply with wilted answers of agreement, acquiescing to her strong opinion and hiding mine at the same time. Feeling her scrutinizing eyes wash over my body, I turn once again to face the tapestry. We lapse into silence gazing upon the tree—she with appreciation, and I with mock admiration.

Her presence vanishes in silence, but my eyes remain locked on the tapestry, unfocused. My mind drifts over the past seven years of my schooling: my classes, my acquaintances, my so-called achievements. Everything I have done has been due to the pressure placed on me by my parents. I am not proud, no. I am ashamed.

The envy I have felt for my cousin is insurmountable and unmatchable to the point that I have dreamed for the freedom that she willingly pursued. She was able to break away, able to make her own name instead of following along the path woven with idiosyncrasy and deception that I have been bred to walk along. Now, I will begin the final decent into the life that I so despise, but it is the life that I am to live. Backing out now would mean certain death.

I hear my mother calling my name, her malevolent voice bouncing off walls as it makes it way to my ears. It is time now for the beginning of my end. The beginning that has been set forth for me, that I submitted myself to.

One day, it will end.

One day, I will be the person I have strived to be, however much I have hidden my desires away from the eyes of my family.

The day was unseasonably warm as Harry quickly finished dressing for the match. It was the first game of the year. He was certain his team would win the cup. He loved the regalia and all the gear associated with Quidditch. He could not wait to kick off the ground and get started. He smiled at his teammates and they smartly marched onto the field.

Potter stood beside the Quidditch Pitch surveying the gathering crowds. He watched in amusement as the other team piled out of their locker room. The bright sunlight danced off the four red heads belonging to the Weasley members of the opposition. Malfoy nudged Potter, snickering at the sight. Lowly, at first, the two boys began to sing, “Weasley is Our King,” and were quickly joined by the rest of their team. Soon most of those in the stadium added their voices and the sound became almost deafening.

“I hate that smug Harry Potter,” Ron whispered to Ginny as they took their places across the field, and she nodded her head in agreement.

Ginny Weasley was in her fourth year at Hogwarts and her first as Gryffindor Seeker. She infinitely preferred the action of playing at Chaser, but knew her team needed her at Seeker. She took a deep breath, fighting off her nerves at the prospect of going up against Harry Potter. Not only was he World Famous, but he had more natural ability at Seeker than anyone had seen in years, and yet he still seemed to feel a need to blatantly cheat. She jumped onto her broom and followed her team into the air.

Almost immediately, Ginny saw the Golden Snitch. Without thinking, she raced towards it, colliding into Potter, who had seen it a nanosecond before her. The force of the impact jolted Ginny from her broom, and she began to fall. Before she could reach for her wand and perform a Cushioning Charm, she felt herself being lifted onto Potter’s broom.

Harry could hear Draco’s screams of dismay, as he let go of the Golden Snitch and grabbed for the small red headed girl. He couldn’t understand why he had done it, except when he saw that she was falling; he panicked and reached for her. Settling them safely onto the ground, Harry took Ginny’s hand, both of them still shaking from the trauma.

“O.K., there, Weasley?” he asked softly, as their eyes met for the first time.

Ginny and Harry stood looking into each other’s eyes, still holding hands. They were unable to break away, unaware of the pandemonium erupting all around them.

Cedric stared frozen at the form of Harry Potter before him. His mind was shock; Harry Potter was offering him the Triwizard Cup, and it looked like he really wanted Cedric to take it. While Cedric had been forced to amend his views of Potter several times during this tournament, now, he finally believed that Harry didn’t put his name in the Cup.

And Harry wanted Cedric to win.

As Cedric pondered this unusual turn of events, he couldn’t stop the feeling that something wasn’t right. Turning to look at the Cup, Cedric thought he realised what it was. He couldn’t in good conscience take the Cup… He couldn’t because he knew Harry was the one who deserved to win.

As Cedric stared at the shimmering light, he marveled at how close he’s gotten only to be beaten out by Harry Potter. A fourth year who had defied all odds to made it to this point.

Cedric frowned. That wasn’t right either. Seeing a problem, Cedric’s sharp mind whirled as he began to pick apart this past few months.

Harry’s name coming out of the Cup…

Mad-Eye Moody declaring that someone put Potter’s name in the Cup to kill him…

Potter knowing about the dragons…

Harry coming in second in the Second Task, when he should have come in third…

Krum getting attacked…after Harry had left…

Fleur’s scream…Krum using unforgivables…

The spider attacking him, right as he was about to win…

Cedric held back a gasp as the truth became evident. Harry Potter wasn’t supposed to lose, he was supposed to win.

Suddenly, figuring out what was the fair answer didn’t matter as much anymore. If Potter was supposed to win, Cedric really didn’t want to know what would happen when Harry touched that Cup.

There was one way to guarantee that.

Cedric would have to take the Cup.

All Cedric’s previous visions of walking out of the maze with the Cup held high, of Ravenclaw’s wild cheering for their champion, ran through his mind as Cedric walked determinedly toward the Triwizard Cup.

Cedric didn’t know for sure what would happen, but he reasoned that it wouldn’t be anything good. And if he…

If it was his time, it was his time. Ravenclaw would mourn, but Cedric knew there was no other way.

Regulus heard his name called. He moved forward to take his place on the Sorting Hat’s stool. He looked briefly at it, and then turned around to sit. He glanced nervously around the hall like a Mudblood kid, but he was nervous about which side of his family he would join. On the left was Sirius, his beloved brother, who was a renegade, blood traitor, muggle lover. On the right were Bella, and Cissy. They were traditional Slytherins- like his parents wanted him to be. Right down the middle was Dromma- a Ravenclaw, neither good, nor bad, to any point of view. He knew he wasn’t a Ravenclaw, but doubts about his Slytherin heritage had recently began plaguing his mind, like a virus. He wanted to be the perfect son- didn’t he? Sirius and Bella were shooting him glares. He was going to make an enemy of one of them tonight.

Finally, the Sorting Hat on his head spoke. “Your thoughts tell me much about you, Mr. Black. Once I never would have doubted where to put you, but now I wonder. You are one of those few… I call them Slythindors- those who could easily fit into either house. Tell me, Mr. Black, who do you want to follow? Your brother or your ancient line? Your thoughts will help me decide.” Regulus gulped. He had already taken longer than any Black- even Dromma and Sirius. All four of his relatives were tensing. They doubted him. He pictured his parent’s reaction to him following Sirius and cringed, but then strengthened. Hadn’t he been dying for a chance to defy them this past year? He had, and he had always loved and admired Sirius. Dromma was distant to everyone, and any thoughts of Bella and her little puppet, Cissy were of pain. Sirius, he thought to the Sorting Hat, I want to follow Sirius. “You are wise, Mr. Black. Already you can see yourself honestly. You are not yet corrupted by the pureblood mindset. Remember that, Mr. Black. You are wise.”

Then, to the whole hall, “GRYFFINDOR”

Sirius and his friends beamed and cheered, and Regulus went eagerly to sit beside his brother and his friends. He laughed and smiled, yet even across the Hall, he could feel Bella and Cissy’s glares, and felt briefly guilty. But the feeling past, and Regulus Black was happy. He was no longer a Slythindor. He had chosen.

I was finally leaving. I looked around the room, at the little mementos that had grown throughout the years. In that corner, Bella, Cissy and I would play games late at night once Mum returned downstairs. That drawing was from Cissy for my first year at Hogwarts. She hadn’t wanted me to forget her. That bear settled against my pillows was a gift from Ted long ago. That rocking chair was where Mum would read stories to us while we laid across each other with pillows and blankets.

A stab of melancholy pierced my heart. Most likely, I’d never see this room again. I’d probably be erased from all but memories and photos.

I sighed and dug out my old school trunk. A smile came to my lips at the sight of all my Gryffindor designs. After being sorted into Gryffindor, the first two years were spent withdrawn and reclusive, especially from my family. I had fought it but I soon came to realize that the values held most dear by my family were rather illogical in the real world.

They were as distant with me as I was with them; Bella and Cissy less so than our parents. Mum stopped doing all the little things I had taken for granted before long. She stopped hiding away little gifts for me to find. She stopped sending me letters just to talk to me. She stopped searching for that perfect thing she knew I’d adore. Dad was never around, but Mum had always been. She wasn’t around for me much after that first year. She loved us dearly, and I know she tried but…

Less and less of the old traditions between us happened as the years went by. It got to the point that my birthday and Christmas gifts were picked out by my sisters.

Quietly, I opened a drawer and selected a few things from it. Slowly, I packed, neglecting to use magic. I wanted to do this the right way.

“What are you doing?” a cold voice demanded.

I looked up and spotted Mum in the doorway. She looked so much like me, but it was Bella who was her twin. It was Bella she loved best now. I exhaled deeply.

“I’m leaving. For good.”

“Why?” There was little emotion in that questioning tone. It stung, feeling like a fresh cut to all the others I had acquired on my heart through the years.

“I’m engaged now.”

I held out my hand, watching as the lone diamond sparkled in the light. I smiled absently at the thought of Ted. Mum’s eyes opened wide, a small twinkle of pleasure in them. It seemed as if, maybe, just maybe, we were back on the old terms of loving mother and daughter.

“To who?”

“A Muggle-born wizard that I love very much.” Triumph coated my simple words, and a smugness rose inside of me. It was my last revenge on the once-loving family that had cast me out of its fold.

He was allowed to change his name, and he would’ve, if he thought that was what kept the chain intact.

His body was covered in chains rusted with age, dangling in triumph as he hung his head in defeat. He remained where he was placed by the fate he couldn’t help, chained to the walls that he despised, to the colors he loathed and to the blood he wished was not his.

When he was a child he dreamed of breaking those chains. He dreamed of leaving those walls, he dreamed of wearing different colors and filling his body with a different blood. He might have had his whole body chained, but his hope had wings that took him too high to catch. Over the towers of laws and births that tried to win over the sky and the pieces of foreign light that tempted for something better.

There was something ironic about his name. Sirius… the brightest star of the night. Father’s favorite. Loyal. A follower. Sirius… brightness in the dark. Sirius… Black.

Sirius Black turned around in the carriage to gaze for the last time at the distancing castle. He turned away quickly; he hated prolonged goodbyes. A search for more meaning where there had never been any. Seven years of his life had past; a violent storm of nothing.

As the carriage rolled away further, as his chosen acquaintances laughed and talked, bright with the promise of some future, he sighed. He’d spent his seven years on a fruitless search for a fallen satellite. He’d spent seven years wearing green, signing his papers with that name that made no sense and kept him tied to the people he knew he would never love. Seven years, and all he could remember were numbers and threats and holidays and scowls. No answers, no friends and no broken chains. A fruitless search for the one thing he wanted more than anything, the one thing he didn’t make sense without, the one thing that could pull him away so high over the towers of laws and births that the chains would not last…

Himself.

As they neared another corner of trees he couldn’t help but turn back once more, as though he’d see himself waving from a window in the one room he hadn’t thought but to look.

Harry looked towards the Gryffindor table where his new friend Hermione Granger was already seated. She beamed at him as he made his way towards the stool at the front of the hall. The cheers for the last person slowly faded away and a rushing noise filled his ears. The colors of the banners and the flickering candles blurred together and he began to feel queasy.

He had been told that this moment would define the rest of his life. He would make life long friends here, he might meet his future wife, he would learn who would always be there when he needed help and who would watch his back for him.

His feet felt like lead as climbed the stairs and his palms began to sweat. He stole a glance at the stern faced Professor standing next to the stool. She gave him a small smile and nodded for him to sit.

He tentatively sat down on the stool and scanned the faces staring back at him. He could just make out Ron at the back of the line of first years; his whole family was either in or had gone through Gryffindor. Harry’s own parents had been Gryffindor; he just knew he would be a Gryffindor. He turned his head, ever so slightly, towards the Slytherin table and made eye contact with Draco Malfoy. The blonde headed boy smirked at Harry, as if he knew something.

The hat settled over his eyes and the entire room disappeared and the world went silent. A voice began to whisper through his head and Harry concentrated hard on keeping his dinner down. The knot in his stomach tightened as he chanted to himself, Not Slytherin, not Slytherin.

The voice gave a little laugh, “Slytherin will help you on the way to greatness, no doubt about that – yes I think that will do – SLYTHERIN”

The hat was pulled off his head and he blinked as light flooded into his eyes. He was still staring at Draco Malfoy, whose smirk had become a grin. Harry looked around and saw Ron’s stunned face. He stood on shaky legs and made his way down the steps. He stopped and looked back at the hat.

“Go on Mr. Potter, join your housemates.” Professor McGonagall gave him a sharp nod and pointed towards the table.

Slowly Harry turned back to face the Great Hall, he looked over the faces of the Slytherian students and felt the knot in his stomach clench tighter. As he approached the table he saw Draco pushing people out of the way to make room for him to sit down. Suddenly Harry’s stomach lurched and he lost his dinner all over someone’s shoes. The members of his new house fell silent and somehow Harry knew that no one here would ever watch his back.